


Permission

by drelfina, evocates



Series: A Very Chinese ABO [4]
Category: Joy of Life, Joy of Life (TV), 庆余年 | Joy of Life (TV), 庆余年 | Qing Yu Nian (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Politics, a discussion of society, a very chinese ABO, abo sociology and politics, alpha xie bi'an, and tea, blink and you miss it - Freeform, everyone is drinking tea everywhere, everything is centred about food, if there is no tea would any politics get done?, implied brocon, li chengze is ready to mate, life as an imperial omega's bodyguard, omega Li Chengze, politics is always discussed over tea, surprisingly very little rice, there is no politics in the hougong because it's all done in the streets, this is a very chinese fic, very subtle hints as to the terror that an imperial omega lives under, very subtle hints to what exactly is the threat to li chengze, xie bi'an has to seek permission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24414856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/pseuds/evocates
Summary: Xie Bi'an was eighteen when he geared himself up to talk to the Assistant Minister of Revenue, Fan Jian.Xie Bi'an tries to ask for permission to mate the Second Prince, five years after he comes into the second Prince's service.In which there is a lot of food, a surprising lack of rice, nothing is said directly, a lot of discussion over tea, and there is so much tea drinking.
Relationships: Chen Pingping/Qing Di, Li Chengze/Xie Bi'an
Series: A Very Chinese ABO [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761676
Comments: 24
Kudos: 25





	Permission

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evocates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evocates/gifts).



> Drelfina: Guess whose fault is this again ? 
> 
> that's right, me! My own goddamn fault! 
> 
> Xie Bi'an and the Second Prince get to be cute for like, less than half the fic because of _course_ when it's politics, nothing is ever said directly and everything is happening behind the scenes.
> 
> again, evocates basically wrote like an entire third of this fic because they 偏心 Chen Pingping. I too 偏心 him so much, which is why he has a giant ass section when it ought to have been a quick discussion. 
> 
> but in a conversation when no one is particularly direct, really, how can you have a quick conversation anyway? Tea is meant to be savoured, not tossed back like water. 
> 
> the good tea is, anyway.

Xie Bi'an was eighteen when he geared himself up to talk to the Assistant Minister of Revenue, Fan Jian. 

The Eldest Prince had, a year before that, taken Bi'an aside while his younger brother had been throwing stones into a lake, to murmur quietly that when the Second Prince was ready, he should approach the Assistant Minister of Revenue, or the Chairman of the Investigative Bureau. 

It had been five years since he had become part of His Highness the Second Prince's household, and even then he still had trouble talking to any of those other than the Second Prince himself. Of the Imperial relations, he barely had to do anything other than accompany the Second Prince into the Imperial Palace when he was visiting his mother the Noble Consort Shu, or to stand watchful and silent when the Second Prince was summoned to speak to his Imperial Majesty the Emperor. The Talented Lady Ning was his shifu, and harsh enough with training but kind enough outside of it, and it was easy to talk to her, because she didn't ask anything of him other than his ability to keep up with the training, or to speak up if it was too hard. 

(It wasn't too hard. Nothing was too hard if it meant he could protect the Second Prince.)

Otherwise the Second Prince barely interacted with any of the others in the Imperial family, barring his older brother when the Eldest Prince was in the Capital. 

The Eldest Prince was kind, but always watching Bi'an with a speculative look, as if constantly judging whether he had been keeping his hands to himself and off the Emperor's Omega Son.

Which Bi'an did. Was doing. 

He knew that omega boys were so rare that the Emperor's Omega son was literally the only unmated one in the entire Capital - probably the entire country - above the age of majority. There was no one who could or would ever be good enough for the Second Prince.

He never, ever, would dare put his hand on the Second Prince unless in an act of protection, or if the Second Prince instigated it first. 

But the Second Prince, for some reason, favoured him above all from his household - it was a humbling experience; Bi'an had barely recovered from the injuries he barely remembered receiving from that time in the streets, beating up the guards, and the Second Prince had summoned Bi'an to his room to see a huge, almost overflowing table full of meats and vegetables. 

"Sit down. Eat." 

Bi'an had stared; he'd only seen this much food in raw form in the marketplace - and usually that was about a good quarter of any one stall's day's goods for sale. 

"Do you-" the Prince had sat down, curling his feet into his seat, and then looked up at him with huge eyes. "Oh! I forgot to ask what you would like. Do you not like any of this?" 

"Your Highness," Bi'an started, stopped, and then had to admit, "I don't know what any of this is." 

"Oh!" The Prince immediately hopped up to his feet, flailed when a foot got stuck in one of his shoes, and he nudged them away to go around to the side of the table that Bi'an was staring at. "This - here, let me tell you then!" 

And he'd named half a dozen dishes in a bright stream of words that told him nothing whatsoever about how any of the food was prepared, or what went into them. 

Bi'an didn't ask the Prince to repeat any of it; it was green, or possibly meat, or possibly fish, or possibly tofu. There wasn't any rice on the table, which at least Bi'an would have recognised. 

"Come on, sit," the Prince said, and hooked his fingers into the barest fold of his sleeve, and tugged Bi'an to the nearest cushion. "Here," and the Prince picked up a pair of chopsticks made of wood so dark and so fine that Bi'an was sure he'd break it by breathing wrong, and placed it into Bi'an's hand. "Take whatever you like! I had a lot made, because Ning-cairen said that you will have to eat a lot of meat for energy when you start training." 

The Prince reached over and picked up a plate of what probably was meat, but almost definitely wasn't chicken, and all but shoved it in Bi'an's face; he had to take it with his other hand to prevent it from dropping. 

Bi'an now had a plate of probable-meat in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and … 

"Go on," the Prince said, fluttering back to the other side of the table with a whisper of his sleeves. "It'll get cold if you keep staring." 

Training, what training, Bi'an had wanted to say, but the first thing that he blurted out was instead, "but where's the rice?" 

The Prince blinked at him. 

"... what rice?" he said. 

"I.." Bi'an looked at the plate of probable-meat, and then at the Prince. "Shouldn't this be eaten with rice?" 

The Prince blinked several more times. "... No…?" 

He had looked so completely perplexed that Bi'an shovelled a wad of probable-meat into his mouth so the Prince wouldn't be upset. 

He had had to do that several more times and swallow hard before the Prince looked less perplexed. 

And each meal time he was in the Prince's Residence, the Prince kept having that same amount of food, and looked expectantly at him until he sat down opposite him to eat.

* * *

Bi'an thought he'd gotten used to all that rich food, as he recovered and his wounds faded to mere bruises.

Until he was sent to Ning-cairen for training, to actually give him proper grounding for his swordwork and wugong (so _that_ was what the Prince had meant about Ning-cairen). She'd fed him a huge bowl of rice the size of his head after training before he was sent back… 

And then the evening meal with the Prince suddenly had an equally large portion of rice on Bi'an's side of the table. 

"Ning-cairen said rice is _necessary_ for building strength," the Prince said. "I should have known." 

And then the Prince stole a few mouthfuls to try. 

"It's… very plain," he said. 

"That's what rice is," Bi'an said. 

"Huh," the Prince said, and handed Bi'an a bowl of grapes. 

It took several yet more meals before Bi'an dared to put a few spoonfuls of rice into the Prince's bowl, before he ate from the giant pile of rice. 

"Ning-cairen said that rice would fix my skinniness," he said, when the Prince stared down at the sudden rice in his bowl. "... Your Highness…" 

"Is too skinny?" the Prince said, and Bi'an bit his lip.

The Prince huffed and put a few pieces of greens on top of the rice. "Alright, if you think so."

* * *

Before she was Ning-cairen, she was Ning Xia, named for summer. It was a season that suited her well: the blazing heat and roiling thunderstorms of the season were both necessary for the growing of crops, but the sun stripped the skin off farmers, and the rain broke through old roof beams to sweep in the heavy, wet chills that preceded pneumonia and death.

She was the kind of person who didn't take it very much amiss when the Emperor came in almost unannounced; she was probably the only one of his consorts and concubines who would put a cup of last season's tea in front of the Emperor and raise an eyebrow at him. 

The Emperor merely echoed her expression and picked up the cup. "You took him under your wing." 

Ning Xia snorted. "My son asked it of me." She waited for him to drain his cup before pouring him another, and put the teapot in front of him. "Though," she continued, flicking her skirt out of her way as she knelt opposite him, "You surprised me." 

The Emperor took another swallow of his tea, tilting his head at her. "Mm?" 

"You might have picked a common Dongyi girl for a consort," she said, ignoring the way his smile widened somewhat, "but letting an orphan without a hint of a family record to become your future son-in-law seems a little too radical." She put an elbow on the table, leaned her chin against her fist. "Even for you." 

Her Imperial Husband reached for the teapot. "You think I have limits?" 

Her expression flattened, unimpressed. "I know _I_ do when it comes to the kind of games you like to play with words." She shook her head. "You know where I came from; play your games with little Chen Pingping, not me." 

The Emperor chuckled, and tipped the teapot towards her cup. "So. What do you think of him?" 

She waited till he finished pouring the tea. "Eager." 

She didn't quite roll her eyes at his raised eyebrow. "He wants to be the best," she elaborated, "but he cares nothing for a name for himself." she could feel her lips twitch up. The Emperor's expression was amused, and she refused to let her smile widen further. "Only for protecting his prince." 

She threw back her own tea, rescued her dangling teapot from the Emperor's careless fingers, and topped up both their teacups. "Did you know," she said, after wetting her lips from her cup, "that he still hasn't asked Chengze for his name?" 

"Hm." The Emperor nudged his cup with a fingertip. "Would you tell him?" 

"And spoil my own entertainment?" Ning Xia said. "Why would I?" 

"And Mother sometimes wonders aloud why I still visit you," the Emperor said, his smile now more a smirk. 

"That old prune-?" She definitely rolled her eyes at his expression. "Yes, yes, she gave birth to you and _therefore_ deserves respect," she waved the teapot towards his face. "She _doesn't_ like the idea of you breathing the same air as a peasant-born girl from a foreign country, much less sharing the same food and bed." 

She put the teapot back down, and the Emperor snagged the handle before she could do more than wave it about, and poured himself more tea. He was fortunate that her teacups were larger than the shallow things here in Qing - she preferred the style of tableware from Dongyi, and had the foresight to bring the set she'd had been allowed in Beiqi. Otherwise tea would have long since overflowed all over the table. 

"Nevermind," she said, pushing her own cup for him to refill, "that all of this food and bed comes from you." 

"You do," the Emperor said, tapping the spout of her cast-iron teapot against the cup in a dull clink, "have permission to leave the palace whenever you wish." 

"And so I do." her smile curved sardonically. "With the caveat that I come back." She tapped a finger on the table, and he pushed her cup back to her. "What are you planning with that boy?" 

His only answer was to raise an eyebrow. She snorted at his blatant attempt to play the court official. She had had no patience for it in Beiqi, and even less with him. 

"When," she said, curling a finger into the handle of her teapot, but not pulling it over, "have I been so easily deterred from my questions?" 

He huffed, and relinquished his claim to her teapot. Good; he would have had a bruise if she had had to fight him for it. The days he tried court games with her had always earned him a right ding around the ear. And cast-iron would hurt this time. 

"True enough," the Emperor said. "And no. I have no plans." 

She regarded him for a long moment, then burst out laughing, dropping her teapot with a dull thunk. "I suppose that my little bookworm of a sister doesn't mind someone _else_ arranging things for her son, then?" 

"I _am_ his father," the Emperor said pointedly. "And he is an adult who has moved out to live on his own, with the right to choose his own people." 

As if even a prince like her own son would have the right to choose a wife, let alone the only Omega son of Qing. 

"In other words," Ning Xia drawled, "his mother no longer has the right to decide anything regarding him." 

"A harsh way to put things," the Emperor said mildly. 

"You mean honest." Ning Xia's mouth twitched. "You need some of that in your life. Husband." 

He lifted his cup and took a long swallow, before putting it back down, looking her in the eye. "What do you think I keep coming to you for?"

* * *

The year that the Eldest Prince had told Bi'an who to approach for… when the Second Prince was 'ready', Bi'an had been actually afraid that the Eldest Prince had been about to admonish him for being too close to the second prince - it had been, after all, the first time the Eldest Prince had dropped by unannounced right while they were eating lunch, and Bi'an had almost choked on a mouthful of fish at the sight of the Eldest Prince. 

But the Eldest Prince had merely looked at them, and then been cheerful enough to join the Second Prince for the meal, though their conversation quickly went over Bi'an's head. 

And then it turned out that it hadn't been the most worrying thing that happened that day. 

Because he was supposed to approach an _Assistant Minister_? He had never spoken to an official in his entire life, not even when officials had come to the orphanage. 

He would have vastly preferred the option of the Eldest Prince himself: for the Eldest Prince was straightforward, a lot like his mother Ning-cairen, even though he was an alpha and she was beta. He was kind, was an _alpha_ , and most importantly, clearly loved his younger brother. He would know whether he should be allowed to… do anything with the Second Prince, or what signs of 'ready' was he supposed to be aware of. 

But the Eldest Prince had said that he would be on the front most of the year; any such conversation would take weeks to reach any sort of conclusion if they were lucky, or months if not, and everyone would merely be frustrated. 

Better to get a faster answer by speaking to someone in person. 

And so… when the Second Prince actually refused to go to bed one night, insisting that Bi'an stay by his side as he read, Bi'an started to think that this might be a sign. 

But… but he wasn't _sure_. When he wasn't training, the Prince insisted he was to be in every room he was. How else was he to be a proper body guard, if he wasn't there? 

But a bodyguard wasn't just one, based on his observations of the _actual_ guards of the Crown Prince's, the Palace, and even the Prince's own Residence; they had shifts, and they were interchangeable even if they weren't faceless. And yet the Prince wanted Bi'an by his side all the time, insisted on him learning how to read, wanted…

(His scent. His scent was sweeter by the day, and Bi'an…. Was running out of excuses, if only to himself, that it was still just a - a- guarding position.) 

So he was going to have to talk to… 

Talk to the Assistant Minister of Revenue. 

Because his alternative was to speak directly to the _Chairman of the Investigative Bureau_ \-- and Bi'an had grown up on the streets of the Capital City. He still broke into cold sweats just thinking about the dark front of that Building.

(How many of the orphans had been taken away by those men and women in black cloaks?)

* * *

"Your sword work sucks," Shifu said, after one session, and slotted her sword back into its scabbard. 

Bi'an winced. He was bruised all over, and would ache really badly tomorrow. 

"Distracted." She tossed a waterskin at him. "Don't come for training until you fix it." 

And then her servants showed him out. 

Distracted. 

Because he'd been thinking of -

Yes. He had to talk to the Assistant Minister Fan Jian, and he really couldn't keep putting it off.

* * *

To be quite honest, he'd expected the … talk much earlier. 

The Eldest Prince might consider the Chairman of the Investigative bureau to be kind and gentle and thus an actual person to approach, but in all honesty, the Eldest Prince had a wilful sort of blindness, perfectly willing to take Chen Pingping's vulnerable appearance at face value. 

Alphas too, had a tendency to get protective over omegas in general, and.. Well everyone knew how much the Eldest Prince indulged his younger brother. 

The Second Prince's alpha guard, however, had not grown up knowing everyone who had entered the Palace, nor would he even have any idea of what Chen Pingping looked like; not when the Chairman hadn't visited the Second Prince's Residence at all. 

And Fan Jian knew what Chen Pingping had made of the investigative bureau in the wake of Ye Qingmei's death; he had ears and eyes, and walked the streets enough on his own two feet to know just what kind of reputation the officers of the Investigative Bureau had. 

The young alpha would hardly approach the Investigative Bureau at all. 

So it would be him. 

Still, he thought, looking at the nervous youth in front of him, he truly expected this talk at least three years ago, even as he'd thought dark thoughts at Chen Pingping for foisting this onto him. 

(It had been more than a decade since he'd been involved with the Imperial family to this extent, and his life had been much calmer for it, even after the death of his first wife, the marriage of a second, and two children besides.) 

"What do you expect me to do about this?" he asked, and watched the young alpha's eyes widen a miniscule amount. 

Young, yes, but alphas went into the army earlier than this. His form was good, his salute and bow while stiff, was absolutely correct. All of which was impressive considering his first instinct was probably to drop to his knees and kowtow.

An alpha at eighteen who had learned forbearance and restraint enough that Fan Jian would have thought this young man was just new to the Capital if he didn't know who and where precisely he'd come from. And somehow _hadn't_ decided to seek permission to mate the omega in his care earlier. 

The Second Prince had gone into his first heat three years ago, after all. Fan Jian had _really_ expected the news of the Second Prince acquiring a mating bite to come not long after. But apparently, Xie Bi'an had the restraint of an alpha ten years his senior. 

"Sir," Xie Bi'an said. Hesitated. 

He didn't know the words to ask him to how to seek the permission he sought. Completely understandable, since he had no reason to even comprehend why he was sent to the Assistant Minister of _Revenue_ , a beta who had no visible connection to the Imperial Family, not to someone this young. 

"The Eldest Prince said that I might approach you for advice," Xie Bi'an said finally. 

"The Eldest Prince overestimates my ability to advise you on the Imperial Family," Fan Jian said, and had to watch Xie Bi'an's face fall. 

He got his expression under control quickly, bowing to cover it; a bow to cover all contingencies and all reactions, the boy was quick if nothing else. 

An alpha with true restraint equal to years of experience, the quickness of mind to pick up court manners appropriate to his station, and some real talent in the martial arts.

The army had lost out on a fine officer, Fan Jian thought. 

"However I can pass your request to the Chairman of the Investigative Bureau." 

Xie Bi'an's head snapped up at the words. "The Investigative Bureau?" he said, voice cracking right at the end. 

"The Emperor's Omega is a far more appropriate person to ask, after all," Fan Jian said, and watched poor Xie Bi'an go paler than congee. 

Poor boy.

* * *

Meeting the Chairman of the Investigative Bureau wasn't quite as easy as it might seem, despite the wheelchair. It seemed like the whole of Qing was built for easy access for the Chairman, which meant that the Chairman had a terrible tendency to not actually be in the heart of the Bureau where he, by all that was logical, ought to be. 

Fan Jian was used to that. 

He just had to send a message to the nearest outpost of the Bureau, which with his name and seal attached, would have just gone straight up to the nearest Division Head, and then straight to wherever secret location the Chairman was plotting in. 

He got an answer in a week; a week in which that poor boy was probably doing his best not to look like he was dying. 

It wasn't that slow; Chen Pingping was probably anticipating this. Fan Jian wondered whether he'd predicted it down to the week, even. 

Chen Pingping knew that Fan Jian thought he was hiding away, or perhaps cooking up some nefarious plot. Perhaps that was so, but it was just as likely that he had simply been busy with the various reports coming from their northern neighbour, acting within his duties as a respectful and loyal subject of Great Qing. Pity, he thought wryly, that Fan Jian still wouldn't think better of him even if he had chosen this option.

They knew each other a little too well.

Still, he had allowed Fan Jian to run a few circles before reaching him for a reason: the little Alpha likely understood perfectly well his helplessness when it came to protecting the omega who had chosen him, but there was no harm in a little reminder.

So, when the time was right, Chen Pingping decided to meet Fan Jian not in some hidden hole in the city, a teahouse right on the streets, or even the Investigative Bureau. No, there was a place much better: brightly-lit, filled with the scents and warmth of home.

"My lord," the servant said, bowing in front of the master of the house. "The Chairman of the Investigative Bureau is at our door. He says that you wished to see him."

Fan Jian nodded, and only when Chen Pingping was wheeled in by his ever present Shadow, did he let a wry expression cross his face.

"A mere week? Xie Bi'an should be flattered it is so short a time. I'm surprised you bothered to come to my home, rather than seek an audience with the Second Prince."

Lifting his head, Chen Pingping caught his ever-present Shadow's eye. A nod and he was gone in a swirl of heavy black cloth, leather boots thudding in his wake.

"Why would I seek an audience with the Second Prince when I have no desire to speak with him?" The Emperor's Omega fussed a little at the red blanket laid over his useless legs. "I've come to hear your argument, Fan Jian, so that I might pass it to His Majesty."

"My argument?" Fan Jian should stand, based on their respective ranks. But based on their long-time acquaintance and the fact that this was a meeting in his own study, he could stay seated, and instead meet Chen Pingping's eyes across his desk. "Should it not be the Second Prince's opinion? or have you already deduced what you wanted to know from your observations of that boy?"

There was no need to specify _who_ was doing the observing. All of the Investigative Bureau personnel acted as his eyes and ears, the words they spoke came straight from Chen Pingping's mouth.

In some ways, Chen Pingping was beyond human - a man with one mind and many limbs.

"The life of an omega," Chen Pingping folded his hands over his lap, "depends on his fortune and the wisdom and judgment of his elders." A faint smile crossed his lips as he tipped his chin up, meeting Fan Jian's eyes. "The life of an imperial son is held within the palm of his father."

And Fan Jian counted as one of the Elders.

He didn't quite snort, but slipped the cover over his inkstone. It wasn't going to be a quick discussion.

"Put those together and it really should be all up to his Imperial Majesty the Emperor, should it not? Why does my impression of the boy have anything to do with it?"

"His Majesty holds your opinion highly," Chen Pingping said, and delicately did not add, _though he rarely deigns to listen to it_. "And so do I."

"And _sometimes_ , you actually consider it," Fan Jian said. Looked down at his desk for a moment, then put a pot of water onto the small brazier by the side of his table, letting it start to heat the water. "If it has anything to do with the finances of the country."

"As the Assistant Minister of Revenue, that is your expertise," Chen Pingping said. His gaze slanted to the brazier, watching the metal of the pot redden slightly from the heat of the coals touching it. Then, without looking at Fan Jian, he said, "But that's not the person I'm talking to right now."

And who, Fan Jian wondered, was he talking to? The father of an omega child, on whose behalf he was already receiving correspondence by parties interested in courtship?

Or the man whose name had been given to a child whose parents could not claim?

Or the fact that he was one of the few people who remembered _her_ , personally?

And all of this barely touched on the topic of Xie Bi'an, young alpha chosen by the Second Prince.

"Speak plainly, Chen Pingping. Which face are you speaking to?"

"The man that the Eldest Prince trusts enough with his beloved little omega brother's safety," Chen Pingping said softly. "The only one among those fortunate those to be within His Majesty's confidence who have spoken to him personally."

His lips twitched up very slightly before he lifted his gaze to meet Fan Jian's. "The Eldest Prince asked him to meet me directly, but he refused because of my reputation and that of the Investigative Bureau. That," he leaned back slightly against his chair, "proves him to be a clever, discerning child. The fact that he dares to approach you despite his lack of an official rank," Xie Bi'an might be part of the Second Prince's household, but the Prince had never given him any particular title aside from 'bodyguard,' "speaks well of his courage."

He spread his hands out. "If I know nothing of him, how might I plead his case in front of His Majesty?"

There were few enough who might consider knowing His Majesty well enough to be within his _confidence_.

"And who is asking this from me?" Fan Jian said.

Perhaps he was just trying to make things a little difficult for Chen Pingping - ever since the beginning of their acquaintance, Chen Pingping had always been someone who had many deep, long-reaching thoughts. He'd only ever played one game of weiqi against him, and never tried again.

"You know so much of him already - that he is clever and streetwise. Unsurprising, considering how long he'd survived where he'd been. That he is courageous - well everyone knows how he met the Second Prince. That the Second Prince had chosen him and looked at no other is a huge mark in his favour. How can you say you know nothing of him?"

Chen Pingping smiled. "I have never met him," he repeated, tucking his sleeves back within the arms of the chair. "Would you say anyone could truly know someone without having met them?"

Ironic, Fan Jian thought, considering just _how_ the Emperor, then still a prince of no particular closeness to the throne, had decided to court Chen Pingping. Ironic too, considering how His Majesty took Chen Pingping's analyses of far flung dignitaries and people that Chen Pingping could _definitely_ never have met in person as truths carved in stone.

"Then perhaps you should meet him," Fan Jian said. "I could summon him here and let you examine him to your heart's content."

While the poor boy expired on the spot. Fan Jian wouldn't be quite so cruel, but the image had its amusement value.

Chen Pingping arched a brow. "Are you truly that reluctant to give your opinion?"

"I am simply curious as to the exact reasons why you wish my opinion." Fan Jian noted the bubbling hiss of his pot, picked it up with a small pair of tongs, and poured it into the smaller teapot with its leaves. "It is not common for you to show up in my home seeking it."

"A fair point," Chen Pingping acknowledged, dipping his head down. "I suppose I seek it because it is the closest we can get to a, ah, how to put it?" He tipped his head to the side, and tapped a finger to his bottom lip. "An opinion that is objective, yet contextualised." His smile widened.

He tried not to snort.

It would not be unfair to say that Chen Pingping was... invested in the Second Prince's future and well-being, considering how both of them were of the same extremely rare sex and caste.

And echoing _her_ words in a way that made him ache.

To be the contextualised objective observer.

Chen Pingping was a subjective observer, based on his role of the Emperor's Omega -- and Fan Jian knew how deeply the man could feel.

(The terrible thing was how deeply he could feel and weaponise it anyway. The softness he no doubt felt for the Emperor's children was genuine and sincere. And that was probably the most terrifying thing of all.)

Fan Jian picked up the teapot and swirled the tea leaves inside, before pouring it out into the cups set on the side of the table that visitors could reach.

"It is not fair," Fan Jian said, quietly, "for you to use her words."

But then, Chen Pingping has always been willing to be unfair.

And they all had their own aching raw spot, with regard to her, possibly Chen Pingping more than Fan Jian. So in a way, perhaps it wasn't unfair - for it must hurt Chen Pingping as much to speak her words as it was for Fan Jian to hear them.

But if it hurt him at all, it didn't show: not in the smile that still had not faded, nor in the upward creases at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps there was an imperceptible tightening to his shoulders, or his fingers had tangled deeper into the vermilion blanket that, Fan Jian knew, carried the Emperor's scent.

"Long conversations with His Majesty have taught me bad habits," he said, voice light, "and I am unused to leaving empty-handed."

"In other words you will sit here and drink my tea until I spit up the answers you came for," Fan Jian said. He nudged the teacup towards Chen Pingping anyway, not making a move to get up to hand it to him, nor to wheel the man closer.

"I saw the boy for all of twenty minutes," Fan Jian said finally. "If I didn't know who he was and where he'd come from, I would have guessed he was merely provincial, unused to meeting Capital Officials, rather than none at all."

Chen Pingping's smile brightened in a way that suggested that he was truly amused by Fan Jian's remark. Then his hands settled onto the wheels of his own chair, nudging him the few necessary inches closer before he picked up the cup of tea.

"He learns quickly, then," he said, voice no louder than a murmur. "Was he, at any point, excessively polite?"

"No," Fan Jian said. "It didn't seem coached, and he was hesitant, but hardly obsequious. Possibly because the only other Imperial personage he has been in contact with besides the Second Prince and his brother was Ning-cairen."

And that Talented Lady barely stood on ceremony with her own husband, how much less would she, with a boy she called her own student?

Couple that with his lack of exposure to actual officials of the Imperial Court, he'd erred on the side of speaking less to prevent offense.

Chen Pingping's laugh was half-hidden by the teacup he had raised to his mouth, and he barely allowed the liquid to wet his lips before setting it back down. "Cautious," he said, voice still very soft. "Clever enough to be so, yet without the ambition to carve out his own place." He traced the rim of the cup with the tip of a finger. "Rather unique for an Alpha, don't you think?"

"I doubt that His Highness would mind if he had some ambition anyway," Fan Jian said, but it was obvious that the lack of ambition pleased Chen Pingping. "An alpha with no ambition tends towards a lack of discipline, according to conventional wisdom."

He curled his fingers over his own cup, feeling the warmth curl into his fingertips.

"But it seems like the boy has an excess of restraint considering his young age."

"How much restraint in an Alpha," Chen Pingping mused, "would be considered an excess?"

His fingers were still loose around the cup, and the corners of his mouth and eyes were relaxed. But there was a near-imperceptible tension that had risen in him as his gaze settled on Fan Jian, and though he wasn't nearly as overt or crass as to allow his scent to float over the table, there was still a reminder in those dark eyes.

"Perhaps I misspoke." Fan Jian said. "I have not met the Second Prince in person, but his first heat was three years ago."

There had been no news of further heats, and yet neither the Prince nor his bodyguard had attempted to inquire as to the procedure for mating. One might not expect any such movement from the Prince - it was his right and privilege to decide otherwise; but for the young alpha to wait wordlessly for three years?

To be young was to be eager and full of energy; Fan Jian remembered _clearly_ what it meant to be around alphas in the prime of their youth.

"If not an excess of restraint, then a discipline beyond expectation of his years would be a better description."

Chen Pingping had heard, of course, about the Second Prince's first heat; given the hold that the Investigative Bureau had upon the capital, why would something so significant escape his watch? He knew, and he had done nothing. Even now, he was still: the arrhythmic tapping of his fingertip on the rim of his teacup the only movements he made.

"Very disciplined." He inclined his head. "Beyond that of a soldier. Beyond even, perhaps, one of mine." His smile gestured towards Shadow, who likely still stood guard outside Fan Jian's estate, and the Black Knights, and every single member of the Investigative Bureau. "It is commendable, to say the least."

Picking up his cup, he looked at Fan Jian over the top of it, and said, "Do you believe it to be insincere?"

Fan Jian didn't look towards his doorway; his gaze was entirely on Chen Pingping's expression.

"If sincere, it is impressive," Fan Jian said. "I have never claimed to be particularly astute in reading a person's character from a first short meeting, but he seems the sort to be transparent in any attempts to dissemble. Ning-cairen still keeps him as a student, and she does not tolerate liars."

"She does not," Chen Pingping said agreeably. He looked down into the bits of tea leaves gathering at the bottom. "If he is sincere, then he is, undoubtedly, good for His Highness the Second Prince. However, if he is, then..." His gaze snapped up and held Fan Jian's.

"He will be in great danger."

"Without ambition, he has barely been seen in the court in any capacity other than a follower of the Second Prince," Fan jian said, brows lowering just a little. "And thus far he has not crumpled under Ning-cairen's exacting demands. Physical defense is not a problem for him - or the Second Prince, for as long as His Highness still wishes him by his side."

But what, exactly, could he - or the Prince - be in danger from? The Second Prince had, indeed, in these past two years or so started to step up in politics, just as the Crown Prince himself had left the Empress' side to head his own household. However they had not come into conflict with each other yet; pushing one's brother into the pond once does not make a case for political revenge.

Chen Pingping's gaze lowered, and lingered on the table in front of him. For long moments, he neither moved nor spoke. When he finally did, his words were a reminder, "You said once that you wanted to stay out of imperial affairs as much as possible." _For,_ he left unspoken, _their son's sake as well as your own peace of mind._

"I had indeed," Fan Jian said, and exhaled heavily.

Imperial affairs then, he thought.

The boy Xie Bi'an was not his concern - neither in his job as an Assistant Minister, nor was he connected to him personally in any way other than as a recommended official by the Eldest Prince.

Who, as everyone knew, stood aside from politics and Imperial affairs as readily as his mother did, disqualified by their blood.

The Second Prince was not his concern either; so despite Chen Pingping's dire prediction, Fan Jian had no oar in this Imperial Boat. He didn't have to know.

But still, he had to ask - the boy had impressed him, and he'd had _met_ him. "How immediate a time-frame?" he said. "I merely ask, because it is nearly time to consolidate the accounts and Budget."

Chuckling, Chen Pingping shook his head. "Nothing to do with the budget or accounts," he said, voice soft. "Merely that of life and death, the succession, and the dangling of forbidden fruit in front of a child who had always gotten everything he had ever asked for."

Not an immediate concern then, but imminent, a looming threat with no deadline and no time-frame. 

Fan Jian closed his eyes as he exhaled slowly. 

They were still _so young_. 

But Fan Jian knew the child that Chen Pingping was talking about was not the Second Prince, for all that at twenty, in the court's eyes he was still almost a child.

"Merely that, indeed."

The pot still on the brazier bubbled, and water splattered to hiss on the coals, and he reached around to pull it off the coals. 

Paused. He doubted that there would be a second round of tea.

"In the grander scheme of things," Chen Pingping said softly, "the life of a mere bodyguard does not even tilt the scales." His cup of tea had long turned cold, but he drained it anyway. "Even if that bodyguard is beloved of an imperial prince, his death would still not shift it." The heavy lidding of his eyes would seem like grief to anyone who was less familiar with him than Fan Jian was. "For even the life of an imperial child might not mean much."

Compared to the death of a god, Fan Jian thought, the death of an imperial child was nothing, what more a disciplined yet eager, bodyguard with no lineage? 

"What schemes are behind that mind of yours, Chen Pingping," Fan Jian said, equally soft, but he put his pot down on a bamboo coaster, out of the way of heat and his arm. "No, that was rhetorical. There are always thoughts of the country behind your eyes, and I, a mere Assistant Minister, cannot start to comprehend a tenth." 

In the grander scheme of things, there would always be another Emperor, no matter how much Imperial blood was spilled along the way. It was always a straight line of Heaven's Mandate passed from hand to hand, Heaven's Will and Favour proven in the black ink of history.

Chen Pingping smiled again, shadows tucked into the corners of his mouth as he ducked his head down to once more trace his fingers around the rim of his teacup. They had known each other for far too long, Fan Jian thought, for such tactics to work on him: he knew full well that no matter how grieved Chen Pingping might look, it would not reduce the ruthlessness of his hand, much less stay it. And there was nothing that this man, the Emperor's Omega, would not do in defense of his Alpha. Of his country.

Sometimes Fan Jian wondered if Chen Pingping had ever recognised that there might be a difference between Qing and the Qing Emperor. He did not wish to ask.

When Chen Pingping spoke again, it was after he allowed a soft breath to escape from between his teeth. "You would be far more than an Assistant Minister if you'd only ask, and you know that full well," he said. Then he shook his head, settling his hands on the wheels of his chair again.

"From the time that boy had raised his stick in defense of His Highness the Second Prince, he has already stepped into the fire." His smile was very thin. "I only hope that His Highness will learn more, and quicker, in order to defend him."

"His Highness the Second Prince is well known to be very clever," Fan Jian said, and didn't mention anything about his caste.

For the Second Prince, while young and still naive, was starting to bear an uncomfortable resemblance to this man who was sitting so quietly in Fan Jian's study. They didn't talk anything like each other, the Second Prince tripped along the court in the bright colours allowed for his youth and station, but something about his bird-like stillness, and the brightness in his words somehow echoed the Chairman, and Fan Jian had no doubt as to what, exact methods Chen Pingping meant for the Second Prince to learn.

Fan Jian had personally witnessed, after all, the ferocity an omega could muster with the might of an army at his hand, and the traps an omega could lay in the entirety of three countries in order to defend his alpha.

"I have no doubt he'd learn whatever is necessary very quickly," Fan Jian said.

"He will," Chen Pingping said, and there was something in the lilt of his smile and the tilt of his head that told Fan Jian he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Two claps rang out in the study. Before Fan Jian could even stand, Shadow was already there, his hands on the handles of Chen Pingping's wheelchair. A nod from the perpetually-masked man - an Alpha, that was all Fan Jian knew of him, for the rest of his identity was as amorphous as the Shadow he had named himself after - and Chen Pingping left the Fan residence.

* * *

Seeking an audience with the Second Prince involved a lot less runaround than trying to see Chen Pingping; for one, while the Second Prince might be out, there was still only one place he generally slept in. Leaving a message with his servants had a summons within two hours.

(Then again, it was an issue that the Second Prince was intimately concerned with, so of course he would be eager to have news.) 

The Prince was seated in his reception hall when Fan Jian was shown in, drinking tea, but he put the cup down into its saucer when Fan Jian came in, a wave dismissing the other servants other than Xie Bi'an at his side. 

"So what did he say?" the Second Prince said two seconds after the greetings were done. 

"I spoke with the Chairman," Fan Jian said. There was no need to play games here, unlike with Chen Pingping; the Second Prince wanted straight answers as soon as possible, and Fan Jian had never quite liked the word-play that came with talking to the Court. "And I know that I had said that I hoped Chen Pingping would speak to the Emperor on your behalf." 

The Second Prince's feet stopped moving, going still against the floor. "And?" 

Fan Jian could feel both their gazes on him, the Prince's blue-green robe falling in a still silky drape - and Xie Bi'an was a pale spot in the corner of his eye as he focused on the Prince's still form. 

"Apparently," Fan Jian said, "there was no need. The Emperor had known from the start." 

The Second Prince exhaled audibly, and turned back to his tea. "Oh?"

"The fact that you have come this far is with his tacit approval." 

The Prince jerked his face up to Fan Jian. "He approves?" 

His bright gaze narrowed after two seconds. "... tacit. But not explicit." 

Well, Fan Jian thought. The prince _was_ quick. And clearly eager; eager enough he was, at the moment, every bit the eager, indulged and winsome child Fan Jian remembered he was. 

"I believe His Majesty is waiting for you to ask him yourself." 

There was a sharp knock behind the Prince; Xie Bi'an almost hit his elbow against a wall.

"Either of you," Fan Jian said. 

"If I have to ask," the Second Prince said, tone almost thoughtful. Fan Jian would have believed it, if he couldn't see how white his knuckles were around his teacup. "The answer would be no." 

Xie Bi'an made a choking noise behind the Prince. 

"It is," Fan Jian said, mildly, keeping his gaze on the Second Prince's hands, "custom for Alphas to ask the omega's father for permission to mate their child." 

He recalled Chen Pingping calmly sipping his tea, in front of him, in his study. All but telling Fan Jian what this all meant: that it was the final test. If Xie Bi'an dared, then he was approved. 

Heavens above, Fan Jian thought, he hated the tests. 

"Mate. Mark?" the Second Prince said, looking at Fan Jian, then glancing back towards Xie Bi'an. His gaze was speaking, searching, and when Fan Jian lifted his eyes to Bi'an's face, the boy's jaw had clenched. Firm and resolute. "Well. It's not like Bi'an would ask to marry yet." 

He was still just a bodyguard with no lineage. 

There was a lot that an omega prince could be allowed, be indulged with; mating was simple enough. 

But mating and marriage were two very different things, and Xie Bi'an had no achievements to speak of for which the bestowing of an Imperial marriage could be termed reasonable. 

The Second Prince made a soft noise, and returned to his tea. Fan Jian was still looking at Xie Bi'an; his posture was still. Not stiff but… mm. Determined. When Fan Jian glanced back to the prince, the Prince's gaze was unfocused, but hooded. 

Calculative. 

Xie Bi'an was young yet. There was plenty of time to acquire great achievements in service of the country. 

"Thank you," the Second Prince said, finally. "That would be all." 

He didn't have to wave a hand in dismissal; Fan Jian saluted and bowed again, and left.

* * *

A week later, the Second Prince sought an audience with his Father. He brought his bodyguard with him.

There was no further news on that front, until an entire _year_ later, when someone mentioned seeing a hint of a mark on the Prince's neck above his collar, and the subtle shift in the Prince's scent. 

An excess of restraint, Fan Jian thought, or discipline beyond his years? 

But again, it was an Imperial affair, and Xie Bi'an didn't seek an audience with him again, so Fan Jian knew that this was no longer his concern. 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Drelfina: yeah there're implied ... threats to the Second Prince's safety, but Chen Pingping definitely isn't saying who or why or what, because Fan Jian had said before he didn't want to be involved with it. So fan Jian doesnt' have the complete picture. 
> 
> He probably doesn't really want to know.
> 
> * * *
> 
> the Second Prince is a rich bb -- as much as rice is a very important part of Chinese culture, a very rich person doesn't necessarily _have_ rice at meals because they don't _have_ to rely on rice to fill them up.
> 
> and no, he might be able to mate his bodyguard if given permission, tacit or explicit, but imperial marriages are allowed/given/bestowed, and there's no way that the second prince can marry just _anyone_.


End file.
